Can't Hurt Me
by Forgive and Forget
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is a white trash who lives with his mother and little adopted brother, Peter, in a white trailer home. He has always dreamed and prayed for a record deal and become the world's greatest rapper. What he didn't know was that a pair of emerald eyes were staring straight at him. AU USUK


_"You're disappearing." Alfred felt the corner of his eyes tearing up. He wrapped his arms around the little boy's waist and tightened his grip on the shirt's back. "Please don't leave me Peter."_

_"It'll be alright." Peter muttered wearily and tugged at Alfred's pair of pants. A smile curved his lips and a beam of light surrounded behind him. "We'll meet again."_

* * *

Alfred blinked his eyes and shook his head, a wave of confusion and weariness hitting him. He rubbed the nape of neck and let a yawn escape his lips. The pavement scratched against the sole of his feet exposed thanks to the hole in his pair of shoes. He kicked a roll of dust and continued walking, his backpack bouncing to the rhythm.

Alfred F. Jones was 19 years old and he has been working in a factory for almost three years. He lived in a trailer home with his mother and his little adopted brother, Peter. It was his job to pay for the bills due to the fact that his mother would run away almost every week to live with her next boyfriend, only to come back a week later looking like a trashy hoe with lipstick smeared across her face. Hell, it scares him more than the movie, Twilight and that was screaming horror.

He whistled quietly the tune that the workers would sing whenever the chief was out of hearing point. It was a classic and everyone who didn't live in the rich district knew the tune. There were many names for it but all the workers in his factory would call it "Bling Bling". It had a cheery light tone to it and when you sung the lyrics, it was hard not to laugh a little. It contrasted the dark gloomy lives that most of them had to face. Many of the people in his city were poor and typically lived in large groups in a too crowded apartment or on the street. Still, it was considered better to live on the street then in a white trailer park home.

Now that he thought about it, he wondered how Peter was doing. He should have been home by now and around this time, their mother was probably off those drugs and taking a nap or fucking some guy she picked up on the streets. _I fucking hope she's taking a nap _he prayed silently and finally caught sight of the big sign, stating, _Welcome to Green Boulevard Homes._

He slipped off his backpack as he tiptoed inside, in case his mother indeed was high off drugs and napping. _Why can't she be like any regular old thirty six year old single mother and take a nap from alcohol abuse? _

Alfred diverted his gaze at a small shredded up piece of paper, taped loosely on the floor. It was scrawled obviously last minute considering how it was barely legible. It read, _I won't be home for a while. Remember that guy who was over here yesterday? Same guy. I left some food in the fridge so take care of Peter. Love ya Alfie. _

He violently scrunched it into a small crumbled ball of paper and threw it at the wall. If he was a cartoon character, you would see steam pouring out of his ears and clogging up the trailer home. _That stupid bitch_ he thought bitterly, his fists clenched tightly. _How dare she do this again._ Sure he was used to this sort of abandonment since he was about six but he now had a little brother who was only six. She could leave him, he didn't give a fuck, but not Peter. Has the thought ever slipped past her that this was only hurting Peter? That he might be crying inside?

Sometimes, he himself wondered what laid hidden beyond those blue sparkling eyes that reminded him of the starry nights and brief but cherished blue skies. His used to hold that same wonder and innocence until shit hit him and since then, his blue eyes looked more like the ocean. Deep, dark, and carried a sense of mystery.

"Is that you Alfred?" a young and childish voice called out, followed by a pair of footsteps. "You came late. Did Fiona leave the note out here?"

He nodded and crouched down so he was on eye level with Peter. A smile curved at his lips, "Yeah she did. Fiona won't be back for a while. Did she feed you at the least? Are you hungry?"

"I'm a bit hungry." Peter giggled a little and patted his stomach. "What are we going to eat?"

"Let me check what Fiona left for us." he gripped around the refrigerator's handle and opened it in a swish motion. All that was in there was a container of left over tuna salad and a carton of expired milk. _Thanks Mom, this would so be able to feed us both. _he muttered sarcastically and slammed it closed. "How about we go out and pick something up for us to eat? How about Kiku's? He always love for us to come there, right?"

Peter nodded, "Okay then! I'm good with whatever you want!"

Alfred nodded and smiled guiltily at him. He truly believed he was a bad brother for he couldn't even promise him any food in the fridge. He blamed no one else but himself. His purpose was to protect Peter as if he was his very own child for obviously, his mom, no, _Fiona _couldn't do it, for him or for Peter. And he'll keep serving his purpose until all left was darkness.

* * *

"Konnichiwa Alfred san. Peter chan." Kiku bowed at the door and pulled out a pair of stools from behind the counter. "You have not been here for a while. It's nice to see you all again."

"Sorry about that, Gilbert has been hustling these day and he was just busted. Plus, Fiona left us again." Alfred sat down and placed a few crumpled up bills on top of the counter. "The usual for me and Peter."

"You two really love hamburger steak, huh?" Kiku asked, knowing already the answer on top of Alfred's tongue and proceeded through the door behind the counter which were hidden from red cruddy curtains.

"Kiku is really nice." Peter muttered under his breath as he fiddled with his fingers. "I wish he was my older brother sometimes. But you're the best for me!"

"Thanks. You're the best little brother for me." he couldn't help but feel that the last sentence was only there to reassure him. Kiku would really be a better option as Peter's older brother. He was mature, charming, and made decent money from his small Japanese restaurant that laid near the outskirts.

_These chicks don't even know the name of my band  
But they're all over me like they wanna hold hands  
Cause once I blow they know that I'll be the man  
All because I'm the lead singer of my band_

He shuffled through his backpack until he finally found his cellphone, vibrating as much as a vibrator. He pressed it against his ear and was greeted by an anonymous sound which to him sounded alot like gun shots. Finally, he heard a familiar voice that couldn't belong to no other than..

"How you doing Alfred? Me, oh just out of jail."

_Gilbert Beilschmidt.._

They have been best friends since they were only seven. Gilbert, back then, was a strong and outrageous kid that liked to mess with anyone on the block. He remembered when they first walked to school together how he would be swing around a nunchaku, that he later found out was stolen from his uncle, so carelessly. His scarlet eyes would pierce at you like a venomous snake and it became an advantage for Alfred for he was often picked on back then. He felt safe behind Gilbert's back.

Over the years, he was no longer bullied and was tough enough to face him on a one and one match. He would reminisce how often, as a past time, they would randomly begin to punch each other in the guts and afterwards, still stained in blood, would share a bottle of beer and listen to Immortal Technique or AZ. Those were the good old days. Actually, they still do that now that he thought about it.

"Why did you call me?" Alfred asked.

"So rude! Well, I wanted to know if you wanted to come to the Velvet Lounge. It's pretty new and I wanted to check it out. So, what do you say?" he swore that he could hear Gilbert's eyebrows wiggle at the last sentence.

"It sounds gay. The last time you brought me to one of these 'new' club, it proved to be a gay and lesbian club! I don't want the same thing to happen."

"What?! That wasn't my fault, I'm sorry. No one told me nothing more except that it was new and it was already crowded since day one." Gilbert protested. "Please Alfred! Look I'll pay you good! Stacking G's and all."

Alfred sighed and nodded, "Sure then. Meet me at the usual spot. Anyone else going to be there though?"

"Nope. Just us and a bunch of horny bitches." Gilbert grinned. "Maybe one will be drunk enough and come home with you if you're lucky. I know I'll have a bunch of them begging me to fuck them so hard that they'll be screaming oh god Alfred like they're porn stars."

"Thanks for the image homie." still, Alfred thought about if he would be able to bring anybody home with him that night. He wasn't bad looking or anything like that. He had dirty blonde hair that he managed to keep combed neatly except for the small cowlick that stuck out like a white man in a black rap battle. He secretly had a pair of thin black frames but he chose not to wear them, preferring his blonde and blue eyes rock star look. He was a bit slim compared to the other rappers and gangsters around who were popping in steroids like football players. Still, at least his six pack was real and his evenly tanned skin and a gun with a trail of smoke leaking out tattoo helped. In fact, he was actually popular with the girls in clubs, though he always refused them due to his overly shyness around girls. If he _really_ wanted to, he could have his way with someone tonight.

"No problem. Well, I'll see you later." he heard a click on the other side and stuffed his phone into his hoodie's pocket. He diverted his gaze back to Peter licking the sauce off of his fingers. He did not realize that their meal was already on the counter and he quickly picked up the hamburger steak, carefully in order to not to stain his fingers, and carried it between his teeth.

"Yo, Kiku! Can I ask you a favour?" he felt bad as he kept staring back at Peter but he didn't want him to be alone. And after all, Kiku would be a better choice for him. _That is truth and we both know it, Peter.._

"Yes, what is it Alfred san?" Kiku smiled polietly at him.

"I wanted to know if you would watch Peter just for today. I'm going to be busy for the rest of tonight and I kind of don't want Peter to stay by himself alone." Alfred smiled back, a bit sadly. "I'm fine if you don't want to. You have plans too I'm sure."

Kiku chuckled lightly, "I am not busy. Peter can help me here at the restaurant. It especially gets crowded at night. His help will be well appreciated."

"Really?" he could always trust him when he truly needed him. "Thank you Kiku! Oh how do you say it in your language, oh yeah! Arigato Kiku san! Right?"

"Hai, that is correct. Well, have fun and he'll be here when you come back." Alfred bowed a bit in respect and turned to Peter, before ruffling through his hair.

"Hey kiddo, I'm going to leave but Kiku will take care of you. He'll make you some of his special hamburger steak."

"Alot of hamburger steaks?"

"Alot. So much that he'll go broke trying to prepare them all." Kiku tried to protest but Alfred quickly shot him a glance and he shut up. He knew Alfred was just saying this for the sake of Peter. He just didn't know if that meant he was a good brother or just a liar. _Maybe both_ he concluded.

"Okay. Take care." Peter giggled faintly and quickly pulled out from his jean's back pocket. He uncurled his fingers and unveil a small cross necklace. It was a bit rusty and he noticed too, was covered in worn blood. He comfortingly smiled at the sight and picked it up, letting his fingers graze across it. It felt strong and as he tightened it around his neck and let the cross hang down on his chest, a sense of confidence greeted him.

"Thanks." he nodded at both of them and stormed out of the restaurant, the rushing wind and rain embracing him as equals. At least if it made any fucking sense which really didn't. _Oh well, time to meet up with Gilbert_ he thought.

* * *

Alfred puffed another round and let the trail of smoke escape cleanly through his lips. The taste of nicotine stung against his tongue and was replaced by a warm sensation. He rather have a beer or even something as simple as a cup of coffee. He stomped his feet and let the rain that has let up a bit drench his hoodie. Where was Gilbert he thought bitterly and tossed his cigarette on the pavement.

"Yo, sorry about that Alfred." Gilbert walked up behind him and slung his arm around his shoulders. "That bitch, what was her name? Oh yeah, her name was Katyusha, some Ukrainian chick I met around the corner. She just broke up with her boyfriend and let me tell you, she's happier than ever."

"I would compliment you but I'm fucking cold." Alfred stuffed his hands into his hoodie's pockets. "Let's just got to that gay club of yours that you were telling me about."

"It's not gay!" Gilbert protested, a pout on his face. "You're just pissed off. Did someone twist your balls or something?"

"What kind of metaphor is that?"

"Just tell me."

"No, not really. Except Fiona. That son of a bitch who abandoned me and Peter once again. But don't worry, she didn't twist my balls at least." he cracked up and pulled out his wallet from his backpack. He swiped a picture of him and his mother smiling that was tucked in his wallet and quickly shredded it into pieces on the floor, letting it sink into a small puddle. A smirk curved at his lips at the sight of it. It made him feel better, at least a little.

"Why did you do that?"

"Did you not get when I called her a son of a bitch?" he glared at him. Sometimes, Gilbert was the most clever and witty guy he ever knew and sometimes, he was just as clueless as the girls he picks up at bars.

"Sorry dude."

"It's fine, c'mon. You're paying for our ride there. This was your idea after all." Alfred crammed it back into backpack and faintly smiled. "Let's go fuck those gay guys you were talking about."

"I PROMISE YOU IT IS NOT A GAY CLUB!"

* * *

"I suppose it really isn't a gay club." Alfred walked in coolly and found himself already grinded. Both girls and boys danced endlessly, no one minding being touched so inappropriately, to the rhythmic beat. The lights were so bright that he could have a seizure just standing there at the doorway.

"I told you it wasn't. You just didn't believe me. Stay here while I get us a drink at the bar. You still look cold." Gilbert winked at him and proceeded within the crowd, soon enough disappearing. Alfred knew how to act at clubs and if he tried hard enough, he could leave three girls fainting and panting for his dick. But, the thought of Peter being abandoned by Fiona still pissed him off. And if he thought about it, he just abandoned him to Kiku himself just to have fun. Why was he so fucking stupid?

"Yo! Gilbert!" he tried to call across the crowd, but the loud trashy music and shouting drowned it out and beat it underground. He pushed his way past the crowd toward the same direction he remembered seeing Gilbert go. _Where the heck was he_ he asked himself. He had to go home and apologize to Peter. Take care of him like the brother he should be.

"GILBERT!"

"Hey Alfred." Gilbert slurred, walking up to him with two girls practically smothering him with kisses and light touches. "What ze matter mate? You don't need to shout like that."

"Have you been drinking?" Alfred took in a whiff and quickly shot back. Yup, alcohol. "You got drunk pretty quick. New record man. Well I trust you'll be alright so I'll be leaving, okay?"

"Don't leave." Gilbert collapsed onto his chest and tugged at his hoodie. "You should like so meet them. This is the Katyusha, the same chick from earlier and this is Natalia, her younger sister."

"Hello." Natalia greeted coldly and stopped touching Gilbert. The look in her eyes scared him a bit. "What is your name?"

"I-I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones." he pulled out his heroic smile and she giggled cutely, contrasting her cold greeting. He had to admit, she was pretty cute, unlike those slutty hoes grinding their way through the crowd. She actually looked, well, normal.

"Well hello Alfred." she pulled at Gilbert's sleeve and pulled him off Alfred. "Would you like to dance?"

"Yeah, you guys should so dance." Katyusha exclaimed, grinning ear from ear.

"No. Wait, Alfred, you should so show your freestyling skills!" Gilbert slung his arm around his shoulder.

"You can freestyle?" Natalia tilted her head in confusion and Alfred nodded, trying to hide his smile. He was actually a rapper which he always felt passionate about ever since he found an old dusty hip hop CD laying near where all the big kids smoked. Of course, he knew it was impossible for him to get a record deal or even his song to be featured in a local radio station. His city was known for their rappers and gangsters and it was a common sight to see inspiring rappers give mix tapes to every person that passes by. Even he tried a few times and his best sell was about twenty mix tapes.

"Yeah, I can." he replied, blushing.

"You should so do it! You're dope man." Gilbert patted his shoulder reassuringly. "We know your shit is the best! Well not as great as my rapping skills but you know what I mean. I'll go ask the DJ and make sure you're on that stage."

"Wow, thank you." Gilbert nodded and once again disappeared, leaving him with the two girls. _What the fuck was he going to do_ he thought nervously to himself.

* * *

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! We like to bring you some hip hop. So prepare for some shitting in your pants and here comes my homie, Alfred Jones. Or as some of you may know him by Nuke AF." Alfred turned his head up at the front of the stage where everyone was now staring at, some confused and some jumping up and down. Oh god, Gilbert..

"Please will the real Nuke AF stand up?" he groaned and stepped onto the stage, the light shining right upon him.

"I'm surprised how original you are." he sarcastically remarked earning a few laughs from the crowd. He felt a pat on his back and a microphone forced into his hands.

"Kick that shit." he shouted as he hopped off stage. Alfred swallowed and stared at the crowd, pumping their fists in rhythm to the beat. It pounded in his ears and he felt his palms begin to sweat. Sure, he has done a few rap battles and freestyling with close friends of his but he never had such a big crowd. It was a great chance to prove himself and he couldn't blow it up. He pressed his lips just near the microphone and thoughts began to pound into his head through different directions. His mother, his father, Peter, Gilbert, himself. _Let's do this. _

_He roared the lyrics, his fists pumping alongside with the audience. Sweat drops slowly dripped down his forehead and his palms began to feel sweaty against the microphone's handle. The light beamed upon him and he felt stronger with each word that screamed out from his lungs. _

_"Shit can't hurt me." he sang. To his delight, he had the audience screaming even louder, some singing along, some just screaming for the hell of it. "I'm going to come out stronger I guarantee. My words will hit you like fuck. Drowning in trash and muck. So don't mess with me because shit can't hurt me."_

He let the microphone drop onto the ground, slipping past his sweaty fingers, and bowed. Was it him or did the world seem to suddenly turn axis? The colourful neon lights raced across the club like daggers, flashing before his eyes. He couldn't even tell between boys or girls for it felt like a blob within his eyes.

"Congrats Alfred!" now that was a familiar voice. Gilbert, right? He felt a tug at his hoodie and was soon dragged off the stage.

"That was awesome." Katyusha pressed her lips against his cheek but he wasn't able to react. _Damn, did all MCs feel like this after a show? _"You are a great rapper and not a bad singer either!"

"She's right." Gilbert hiccuped and handed Alfred a glass of beer or champagne or something like that? "Drink this, it'll help you relax a bit. You look really dizzy."

"Where's that other-" he slipped some of the alcohol down his throat and the world finally began to slow down. "Where's Natalia? Your sister?"

"She's in the bathroom." Katyusha giggled a little and slipped a piece of gum in her mouth.

"She didn't see my performance? I was dope out there." Alfred pouted a little and diverted his gaze toward the bathroom before back at the two. He didn't know why but it hurt him a little that she didn't even bother to watch him out there.

"Don't worry. She saw it all."

"Really?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, she just got all nervous and fidgety and you probably can already tell, she doesn't do well when it comes to emotions." he chuckled softly and sipped more at his glass of alcohol which he now could totally tell was just beer. Silly Gilbert and his beer.

"I see then. Well tell her if she wants to see me, meet me at that corner." he pointed toward the farthest corner where only a few people occupied. "I have to admit she's pretty cute."

"I just want to tell you. Don't call her cute." even with her gentle smile, Alfred could tell she was dead serious for the atmosphere suddenly shifted and turned icy cold. He sunk down the rest of the beer down awkwardly and smiled at them.

"I-I got that. Thanks Gilbert. Katyusha. If you need me, you know where to find me." Alfred winked at the two and disappeared into the crowd. Gilbert snickered and turned to Katyusha, "He's usually not like this unless he has a drink. He's actually pretty shy when it comes to asking girls out?"

"I can see that. Alcohol changes people, don't they?"

_It's not just any old alcohol. Hope you have fun Alfred._

* * *

Alfred blinked his eyes and slipped open the covers only to find himself completely naked and bare. What the fuck did he do last night? He nervously turned his head and stared at a sleeping figure, her long vanilla blonde hair resting on her back. What was her name again? Man, he felt bad for not being able to even remember her name.

Did he just fuck her? Well she was kind of cute he admitted but nonetheless. He quickly tiptoed and began to furiously button his pants on and slip on a quick t-shirt. He had to escape before she woke up. Otherwise, he's screwed and damned to hell.

"God, please forgive me for my sins!" he muttered under his breath and flipped open his phone that was luckily tucked in his jean pocket. For he didn't know where the hell was his backpack. All he knew was that he was with Gilbert before everything blacked out. They were at some club, Velvet Lounge, a not so gay club, if he was correct. He took a brief saddening glance at the girl before slipping out of her apartment flat and out of the door.

"Yo, Gilbert!" he shouted at his phone. "Pick up dude! I'll fucking kill you!"

"This is ze awesome Prussia and-" a hiccup was heard over the line. "I'm so fucking awesome. Leave a message after t-the beat. Ja?"

"Dammit Gilbert." he hissed and stuffed it back into his jean pocket. He hated his voice-mail message so much. It was probably the most stupidest thing ever. I mean, seriously, he wouldn't be able to compare to the great Prussian empire. And don't ask how he knew about it considering he left school early in order to work because of his stupid mother-_oh yeah_. She abandoned them again like the hoe she was and he-did the same himself.

"I'm such an awful brother." he moaned and felt tears water at the corner of his eyes. "I left Peter alone. I don't deserve to be a big brother."

"Don't say that." he felt a warm touch against his skin. The smell of nicotine filled his lungs and he diverted his gaze toward a young man who looked a bit younger than him though something about the serious look on his face said otherwise. He had honey blonde hair that covered a portion of his face and behind it, beautiful emerald eyes staring right at him. Okay, that sounded gay but it was the truth and even the straightest guy on Earth would admit that.

"Why not? It's the truth." the words seemed to slip right out of his mouth.

"I can't say you're a bad brother. I'm probably the worst brother you could have. Little brother really but still." his eyes saddened and he swore his lips curved downwards, just a little at least.

"I guess we're both bad brothers."

"I suppose then."

"What's your name?" Alfred attempted at lightening up the atmosphere even though the smoke and grey clouds that overshadowed them didn't really help.

"Wow, that was rude of me." Arthur chuckled lightly. "Name's Arthur. I'm just visiting for a few days."

"I'm Alfred F. Jones at your service." he pulled off his heroic smile. "This is my city. I've been living here since forever."

"It sounds nice to not travel all the time. I remember when I was younger and how I wanted to explore these new places. I'm actually from London if you didn't notice already."

"You're British?"

Arthur took another puff. "Of course I am. Do you not recognize my accent or something?"

"Your accent sounds mostly American though. New York dialect?"

"I suppose. I have been in New York City often so I wouldn't be surprised if I sound more American than British. I've been living here for about seven years, give or take. I even use more American vocabulary and slangs." Arthur took a glance at Alfred and suddenly felt a warm blush come to his face. Why the hell was he just spilling this all to a stranger he just found crying on the corner? Maybe he felt comfortable around him.

"That's cool. Look dude, I'm sorry but can I ask you a huge favour?"

"Surely, throw it out there."

"Would you give me a ride back?"

* * *

Arthur didn't know exactly why he was giving this stranger, who claims himself as Alfred, a ride all the way across the city. Not to mention, he didn't know exactly around the city. But he couldn't help feel bad when he stared at his baby blue eyes bulging out like a puppy. He bit his lower lip as he tried to follow Alfred's rambles.

"You go left around that corner or wait no! That's where Costco is. That's not where it is. But that reminds me of a really funny story about me and my best friend, Gilbert. So we were like talking about how every product was Kirkland like that famous-"

"Excuse me but I'm only here to drive you home." he interrupted, glaring straight into Alfred's eyes. "Will you please give me an actual set of comprehensible instructions so I can drop you back home?"

"Sorry dude. Calm your tits. Okay, well just take that right over at the end of this street and then the first left. Keep going straight until you find this big white ass sign. Should say 'Welcome to Green Boulevard Homes'."

"Is that a trailer park?"

"Yup and it's my dump let me tell you. Me and my little brother lives there. Fiona lives there too though she often leaves." Alfred took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together to keep warmth.

"Who is Fiona if I may ask?" he quickly added. "It's okay if you do not want to tell me! It is your personal life after all!"

"She's my mother and let me tell you, she's a fucking hoe who fucking sucks dicks and doesn't give a fuck about me or my brother." he crossed his arms.

"Quite the language. And oh, we're here." Arthur chuckled softly and finally parked the card to the side, ignoring the scrambling birds storming away in front of his window. "Are you part of a gang?"

"I'm a rapper thank you very much. But I don't have a deal. It's tough for people to even perform outside of our porches."

"Why don't you enter the Rap Race then?"

"The Rap Race? No way, I don't have enough skills for that." he confessed. The Rap Race was the most popular and well known freestyling competition across the whole nation. People of all races, ages, it didn't matter, came here in order to compete. The winner would receive two thousand dollars as a reward. Often, famous music producers would attend and usually give a deal to the first place winners. He was told it was the founder and artist of Angles Entertainment this year.

"You cannot be that bad?"

"It's not like I'm shitty but some rappers are dope. They deserve to get a record deal more than me."

"Have you never listened to the song Lose Yourself? You only got one shot, one opportunity. This could be a chance for you to get that deal you really want. You have to take it." Alfred smiled lightly at the comment. He loved the 8 mile movie and his favourite rapper would have to be Eminem. Being not just the biggest white hip hop artist but the biggest hip hop artist, period. You wouldn't be able to compare him to legends like Tupac or Notorious Big who died or old school hip hop artists like Dr. Dre or Grandmaster Flash. But sure enough, he was the g.o.a.t.

"You think I should really enter?"

"Of course. I'll be there to watch too. I promise to be cheering for you." Arthur beamed at him. "It'll be quite a sight."

"Maybe I will then. I'll have to think about it." Alfred replied. If he could get his hands on the two thousand dollars, he would be able to provide for him and Peter. Not to mention, if he could possibly get even a deal, that means even more cash to support the two and maybe they would be able to live in a decent apartment flat with an actual pipeline that wasn't clogged up by swarms of cockroaches that would attempt to climb up through the sink and toilet. Peter would be able to perhaps join a sport team being able to afford sport equipment or maybe a guitar and he could teach him too. His future would actually be normal.

"Well then maybe I'll see you there. If you are going to, sign up as soon as possible before the list is filled."

"Thanks. For both about this and giving me a ride." he hopped off the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. He waved friendly and Arthur rolled up the car window.

Arthur nodded. "No problem. Let's meet again Alfred F. Jones."

"Sounds great _Artie_." he stuck his tongue out at him and quickly sprinted away until he was away from his sight. Arthur couldn't help but laugh a bit. He truly was an interesting man. He rolled the window back up and veered the car, heading for his next destination. He had some business to take care of.

Alfred slowed his pace down as soon as he heard a screeching sound and cloud of gasoline clogging the entire street. Damn, he must be in a hurry or something he thought to himself. He stomped his way, ignoring the chill, and was greeted by the same white sign that he has been looking at everyday. The one he either anticipated for or wished to avoid. But no one was home and he was all alone. Alone and a white bum.

He pulled off his hoodie off revealing only a white tank top underneath as he walked into the trailer. He threw his hoodie toward the couch with a jerk, crashing against the cushions before burying beneath. He'll pick Peter after he got a good nap and some tuna salad in his mouth. Even though it was probably stale by now considering how it was leftovers. _Peter, I'm sorry _he thought._ I'll make sure you live the life you always wanted. _

"Alfred? You're back?"


End file.
